Archive for the 'literature' Category

Aug 21 2008

worst bits of both

Published by f. jordan under , literature, movies, review

Those words come from a conservative guy talking to a transvestite who somehow feels comfortable with his presence. Unfortunately for this guy who has a problem with a shoe factory he newly-manned when his father unexpectedly died, he isn’t comfortable looking at a man wearing a dress. “You look like the worst bits of both,” he has said.

This is one particular scene in the movie Kinky Boots, directed by Geoff Dane and written by Julian Jarrold, where it steered me the most. Though the guy named Charlie Price can be considered an enlightened man in the land of Northampton, he still falls under the prejudices of other people’s scrutiny and idealisms when he and Lola the drag queen are together in the restaurant. Issues on sexuality often heats up even the most apathetic citizen that it is the whole debate becomes senseless and even discriminatory.

As for the aspects of pop culture found in this movie, the one that surfaced perceptibly is the fashion aspect since the whole film involves shoes, good looks, and runways. The film effectively covers this matter which almost everyone in the world has been involved with. From the proper shoe size to the debatable concern of who must wear this and that, Kinky Boots somehow breaks the mold of gender inequity in a less declarative and demanding way. Like Lola, or otherwise known as Simon, this cross-dresser who designed the “transvestite boots” for a factory that manufactures the common products such as the Oxfords and the school shoes is like a movement for a possible change, a sure way of ensuring equilibrium that homosexuals have their own share of the pie present in the market.

On the other hand, this act can be held accountable as a disadvantage since the majority is alien with this idea. Who would’ve thought that this particular place makes boots for gays? Therefore this is one thing that’s obviously unpopular either in this generation or on the next few years to come. Let’s face it, though more and more people have fought for the reshaping of the biased mentality, we cannot still get away from labels, taunts, and misconceptions that defeats the protests of those “radical” thinkers. Boots are good for females, better for female dancers, but awfully bad for drag queens—this is the code one may get in this film. For me, fashion adapts to different views and concepts so basically it shouldn’t follow a direct rule.

The movie has the makings of a classic, though. Even if it deals with issues about gender, fashion dichotomization, and societal biases, this movie can stand the tests of time for its focus on being uncategorized and fearless. These themes are universal and the insights never change even after countless of viewings. Just like Steven Spielberg’s Extraterrestrial, it still remains watchable until now for its charming nature, its youthful burst of energy found in the child protagonist, and the theme of reception and release. Aside from being a favorite, this sci-fi movie makes anyone relate to the child because personal experience usually makes movies click. In the film Kinky Boots, no one can really get away from it without having a connection to one of the wide variety of characters. Popular culture is unquestionably transitory, it lives on the various changes of things, but through this series of modification it eliminates the borderlines, the limiting characteristic of time. And since this movie, Kinky Boots, offers illumination of knowledge that transcends any period, it is a classic no egotistic scholar of the highest order could ever disagree.

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Aug 12 2008

revise! revise!

Published by f. jordan under , literature, poemfrog, review

After two months of shaping my itsy-bitsy skill in poetry under the exceptional tutelage of Filipino poet Myrna Peña-Reyes, I am now squirming in embarrassment thinking of all those poetry that I’ve made before I enrolled in this one-student class (or more like a tutorial program knowing that I’m the only creative writing senior at school). And some of those poems were even critiqued in a national workshop! Shame.

The benefits of having Ma’am Myrna as my teacher are really worth it. Visual and audio aesthetics aside, my so-called poetry has been transformed from mere abstractions to a graspable chunk of material thought. “I think you have a lyrical mind too. You have a good ear for sounds,” she once said. Well, here’s the first version of the poem entitled To End a Wall that, somehow, got out of my head when I was wallowing in the days of seemingly endless despondency:


To End a Wall

Either one of us
will divide, break, or tear
this wall apart; and yes not push
because pushing things aside does not do
any good—they just fall. (You enforced
not to wait for someday and I said eradicating
that someday, hopefully, must be easy.)
If this wall remains standing,
stoic and solid, let it remain standing like
a sentinel that would remind us what we have done,
or consider it an idol, a wide white barren article
of the past wherein we hold our hands
inside one of its tiniest cracks, crooked serpents
crossing the coarseness of its concrete face,
and see if greatness in mistakes crumbles
by the littlest plastering of confessions.


And this is the last revision, so far, that I think looks and feels good. In poetry, nothing ends—revision is crucial to the development of a particular piece, both in form and substance. What makes me happier is that my teacher agreed. Here it is:

To End a Wall
Someday
one of us
will divide, break or tear
this wall apart
and yes, not push
because pushing things aside
does no good—they just fall.
(You said this someday would come,
and I hoped it would be easy.)
If it remains standing,
stoic and solid, let it remain standing
like a sentinel that would remind us
what lies we have said;
or consider it an object of worship,
a wide barren structure of the past
wherein we held hands
inside one of its cracks,
our fingers like crooked snakes crossing
the coarseness of its concrete face.
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Aug 09 2008

where’s mama?

Published by f. jordan under , literature, review, song


PAPA DON'T PREACH
Madonna

Papa I know you're going to be upset
'Cause I was always your little girl
But you should know by now
I'm not a baby

You always taught me
right from wrong
I need your help
daddy please be strong
I may be young at heart
But I know what I'm saying

The one you
warned me all about
The one you said
I could do without
We're in an awful mess
And I don't mean maybe.. please

chorus
Papa don't preach..
I'm in trouble deep
Papa don't preach..
I've been losing sleep
But I made up my mind..
I'm keeping my baby
I'm gonna keep my baby mmm

He says that he's going to marry me
We can raise a little family
Maybe we'll be all right
It's a sacrifice

But my friends keep telling me
to give it up
Saying I'm too young
I ought to live it up
What I need right now is
some good advice.. please

repeat chorus


Daddy daddy if you could only see
Just how good he's been treating me
You'd give us your blessing right now
'Cause we are in love
We are in love.. so please

repeat chorus
Papa don't preach..
I'm in trouble deep
Papa don't preach..
I've been losing sleep
Papa don't preach..
I'm in trouble deep
Papa don't preach..
I've been losing sleep

I'm gonna keep my baby
Ooh don't you stop loving me daddy
I know I'm keeping my baby

* * *

The dance step is enough for one to shiver. No, maybe puke. Knowing that most of our generation (the youth sector, to be exact) is conditioned with ecstatic musicians that vary from the dark goths to the cheap butterflies, it is hard to pull out something appreciative that goes far beyond our aptitude of recollection—unless it is an unforgettable classic. Madonna’s Papa Don’t Preach unfortunately falls under this category of being incognito in my mental archives.

The video, with Madonna’s unnatural portrayal of a demented daughter alongside the rest of the people present in it (extra or not), is a bit tacky. Sans the negativity, somehow, the music video has able to project its message towards its viewers. And this is about a woman’s confusing life in a dysfunctional family setting. And no one can even call it a “complete” family setting since Mother is nowhere in sight. If feminism is applied here, then we can conclude once again that in the process of making the song or the video, patriarchy is still present.

Considering that the video is like a documentary of a girl’s life to womanhood in a drama series-esque way, not dipping its toes into any form of “indie spirit” or surrealism that has sickened most recent music videos today, it is easy to get the main gist. It is understandable—and this is a plus point.

A line in the lyrics can be considered ambiguous but smart such as this: But I made up my mind/ I’m keeping my baby/. Who is this baby the song refers to; the lady’s actual biological child currently inside her womb or the kind of baby that suggests a “boyfriend-girlfriend” relationship? This is a question of which each circumstances works well. Even though the video shows this double meaning technique that effectively keeps any viewer to think, the latter possibility mentioned is more likely to happen. The teenage preganancy issue may be more pressing but, in my opinion, it is not well-sustained in the presentation that it might fall as something unbelievable. This hint of indistinctness may seem indirectly unsure for some audience such as this comment by SamArmstrong1977 at YouTube, “During this period she was known for being shocking, much more than nowadays. Parents didn’t like their kids to her, mine didn’t anyway. The pregnancy message here was considered outrageous…” With this message alone, it shows that some doesn’t agree. Anyway, the song works in many ways.

Though the situation in this music video is quite complex, one thing is really sure: it may be complex in its time but in the 21st century, it is not that complex.
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Jul 29 2008

gender studies

Published by f. jordan under , literature, review

Right now, I’ve already made up my mind. Days ago, I was having a little problem with my Literature 35 class—I just can’t decide what topic I’d report on this coming Friday (yes, Friday na!). My first choice was Sandra Harding, which may cover her criticism on Women, Science, and Society. The title of her study alone thrilled me. But upon researching for more background information, I found this online: On the Cutting Edge: Cosmetic surgery and the technological production of the gendered body by Anne Balsamo. In the simplest form of explanation it’s about the question of where is gender located in one’s technologically changed identity. Whoa! Her words got me into thinking. The following day I approached my professor and told her I am doing Anne Balsamo. So Balsamo it is!
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Jul 12 2008

two gatherings

After the successful inauguration of the Albert Faurot Lecture Series on Culture and the Arts yesterday with Prof. Danton Remoto’s talk on Ladlad and Queer Literature in the Philippines, I’m already looking forward to more of this engaging gathering to stimulate my mind—especially the orthodox sensibilities of the Silliman community.

Being in part of the working committee, under Litcritters Dumaguete, does not only grant us instant book signings but also allow us, sometimes, to get up close and personal with the speaker (thanks to Sir Ian Casocot). Like last night, I together with Marianne, and Pong, had a great dinner with Prof. Remoto, Sir Casocot (with his brother), and the city-omniscient Kuya Mo at Italia’s, one of the new restaurants in Dumaguete. And Prof. Danton invited me to submit an essay for his on-the-works fourth Ladlad book. Woo!


And a day before that, we also got to meet Cong. Gilbert Remulla, Atty. Adel Tamano, Cong. Erin Tañada and (still with) Prof. Danton Remoto. With the help of Prof. Leonor Briones, these guys were here to present Atbp: Politics and What’s Bugging the Youth. Hopping from one university to another, it is really fortunate that we had these symposia in campus to have an intense discussion concerning economic-policies, politics, religion, and even gender issues.



In their website, the Young Turks’ next stop is at the University of the Philippines National College of Public Administration and Governance.

More pictures here.
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Jul 06 2008

into the ocean

Published by f. jordan under , literature, review, song


I'm just a normal boy
That sank when I fell overboard
My ship would leave the country
But I'd rather swim ashore

Without a life vest I'd be stuck again
Wish I was much more masculine
Maybe then I could learn to swim
Like 'fourteen miles away'

Now floating up and down
I spin, colliding into sound
Like whales beneath me diving down
I'm sinking to the bottom of my
Everything that freaks me out
The lighthouse beam has just run out
I'm cold as cold as cold can be. Be


Chorus:
I want to swim away but don't know how
Sometimes it feels just like I'm falling in the ocean
Let the waves up take me down
Let the hurricane set in motion... yeah
Let the rain of what I feel right now... come down
Let the rain come down

Where is the coastguard
I keep looking each direction
For a spotlight, give me something
I need something for protection
Maybe flotsam junk will do just fine
the jetsam sunk, I'm left behind
I'm treading for my life believe me
(How can I keep up this breathing)

Not knowing how to think
I scream aloud, begin to sink
My legs and arms are broken down
With envy for the solid ground
I'm reaching for the life within me
How can one man stop his ending
I thought of just your face
Relaxed and floated into space

(repeat chorus)

Now waking to the sun
I calculate what I had done
Like jumping from the bow (yeah)
Just to prove I knew how (yeah)
It's midnight's late reminder of
The loss of her, the one I love
My will to quickly end it all
Set front row in my need to fall

Into the ocean, end it all [4x]
Into the ocean (goodbye) end it all (goodbye) [3x]
(repeat chorus)

Into the ocean (goodbye) end it all (goodbye)
(Into space)Into the ocean (goodbye) end it all (goodbye) [5x]
I thought of just your face

* * *

When it comes to leisure for my auditory sense, I always go for beats defying usual tunes that easily fall under two common visual images: butterflies in the fields and rain in the afternoon. These two mental pictures are, oftentimes, imagined when one listens to songs that are totally rehash of previous popular songs. Though originality is just so hard to determine in song writing and music composition, there are some singles that I can consider a cut from the rest. And one of my favorites is Into the Ocean by Blue October.

A rock band that originated at Houston in 1995, Blue October is led by Justin Furstenfeld and is accompanied by his brother Jeremy Furstenfeld (percussion) along with Ryan Delahoussaye (violin, mandolin, piano, vocals), C.B. Hudson (guitar) and Matt Noveskey (bass guitar). Truth be told, this is their only single that I love because it stands out from the rest of their collection. Their songs are mostly rock and it’s just refreshing to hear something from them that’s relaxing but not at the point to make one sleep—indeed, a real good use of Justin’s vocals. The song’s bending and somewhat electronically-synthesized vocalizations remind me of Jim Sturgess’s version of the famous Beatle song Across the Universe, and Chatter’s Tale of the local band Orange and Lemons. Even its dark humor is reminiscent of Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody. MamuVies, a Youtube user, said the song is “hypnotic” and I agree.

As for the music video it shows a show; presenting a theater-like production of their song reflecting the cheerful and buoyant calmness of the melody. Some scenes are funny, such as the band riding a ship in the sea, but these only add to the unique charm of the overall video—quirky but beautiful. Aside from the band’s gothic get-up, I love their hair!

The lyrics, too, don’t fall flat with Justin’s singing prowess; it’s as if every line embody his very being. In entirety, the lyrics is not ambitious. The words are neither florid nor impressionistic; they are simple but skillfully weaved to form a complex narrative. What is this narrative, if there’s any? From what I’ve apparently learned after the nth play, it’s a twisted telling of desperation—a weakness so hard to ignore that when one falls under such circumstance, he has to accept the fact and let the rain come down//. He has to face these trials. Whereas Princess102100, another Youtube user, have commented under the video that “…the guy is like drowning and thinking about the girl as he tries to get strength to survive and swim away,” I say that the guy is much more concerned about his becoming strong and fulfilling it with his own efforts rather than merely chasing this lady he loves. The lines I'm cold as cold as cold can be// and I scream aloud, begin to sink// also stress the idea of an Achilles' heel; meaning the hero of this song has a flaw and it could be his feeling of inadequateness because he is just a normal boy.//

The song's lyrics can also be dissected for gender studies as well. One particular thing to note about is the second line of the second stanza which says I wish I was more masculine//. Though I really have nothing serious against the band, this line provokes some biases toward gender roles and sexuality. If the persona “wishes” to be more masculine in order to get away from life’s harsh realities, then this is an insult to all females of the world—and even homosexuals. Can't the non- or lesser-masculine beings of the world incapable of handling difficulties? I may have studied a different context here but this I cannot ignore; the line just jars from the rest of the striking lines. To some extent, pathetic.

Nevertheless, the overall composition is definitely noteworthy. Of course, I shouldn’t have chosen this song if it isn’t. What more can I say? Well, this is one work that testifies poetry is still alive in the 21st century. But not a perfect poem, though.


* if the video is unavailable, click here.
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Jul 05 2008

iron gate

Published by f. jordan under , Life, literature, pensive

Just as the iron gate is willing to open, rust have tortured the hinges; dry blood makes opening and closing so hard to do. Its dark color is not appealing to the eyes unlike the fruit Eve had plucked from the branch of the tree of good and evil. I know she was just tempted, yet, she took it. Also, even its scent is rancid as if all the beautiful whiff of flowers and morning dews are taken away from the air.

Poor gate, I should have approached you days ago to witness your decaying state, should have touched you to feel the wounds that leave you nothing more but scars and dust. But right now, all I have done is speak of these thousand words only the deaf can hear.

They say you are fine, just all right, because the motes surrounding you have never left. This makes me happy—as happy as the days when I usually came in and out of you, swung your stiff being into this kind of openness only you and me can embrace. Motes, these little motes, are fortunate for in your idleness they have stayed and lingered. I just wish I am one of them, those tiny motes floating around you, illuminated by the sun in the morning and the moon in night time, so that I will live with you dancing in the air, singing an unheard song in everlasting happiness.
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Jun 29 2008

understanding the voice

Published by f. jordan under , literature, review, song





Especially for a song that has spawned numerous versions in different generation, You’re the Voice is one veritable piece. Written by Andy Qunta, Mitchel Reid, Maggie Ryder and Chris Thompson 80’s, this single is a hit in some countries such as Australia and even European nations, but not forceful enough that it gains the attention of the Americans. Such accountability of this can be recalled in one episode of American Idol on Fox. “I didn’t know the song but I like it,” said Randy Jackson, one of the three-panel judges of the show. But what is more appalling in the talent show, of which the song is performed by David Archuleta, is Simon Cowell’s comment: “[This is] reminiscent of a theme park performance… The song is not for you.” Though it is believable enough to say that Archuleta was not able to pull it off and he ended up looking so artificial on that glossy concert stage, Cowell’s remark is not right. It is downright nasty. Everyone is entitled to sing a song the same as everyone has the right to eat ice cream.


Nothing beats the original but other versions of You’re the Voice can stand on their own. David Archuleta’s is one passable edition, in our opinion. With the Heart band, the spunk and energy of John Farnham is still present, except that it was presented by a woman. Shown in the video, though, differs because it focuses on poverty and war issues, unlike Farnham’s which presented dysfunctional parents ranting off right in front of their child.


With the Heart’s rendition, the song shows how versatile it is as being androgynous. This flexibility also proves that the song is not only limited to the masculine mindset because another singer, Rebecca St. James, rendered it with her very own semi-rock style of singing. Though she’s not much of an original, with her antics closely resembling Fiona Apple’s subtlety and Avril Lavigne’s angst, her other songs are nevertheless good.


The song is a classic—especially the one by John Farnham. As a literary piece, You’re the Voice is very mundanely austere but realistic. It is encouraging its audience (or listeners) to make the world a better place. It may fall as a cliché but its message is encompassing and full of truth that being trite is not an issue. It doesn’t make use of any complex words yet it effectively delivers the message across with such unexplainable uniqueness. If this were to be a poem, the persona is just expressing the urgency to fight against what’s wrong in society.


The song can fit in any generation. It has been proven by the many versions of the song by various artists in different periods in time. There aren’t just four versions of the song, but among the four, the music video by Heart was the loudest. It showed the suffering of people due to war and poverty. It evokes pity from its viewers. We appreciate the song because, aside from its catchy tune, its message is simple and clear. It is universal. It has the voice of everyone.

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Jun 18 2008

present tense

Published by f. jordan under , hits, literature, silliman university

After hours and hours of contemplating what to do next, as if calendars and time tables have no other use than to completely confuse my sensibilities, I have finally laid out my class schedule: pop culture and gender studies on Monday-Wednesday-Friday mornings, playwriting at two every Monday afternoon, three hours of studying children’s fiction next, almost four hours of poetry every Thursday morning, followed by three hours of critical writing in the afternoon, and lots and lots of free time. Free Time. Actually, this so-called “free time” is just a decoy. I awfully need every second of the clock to work on my various writings under the subjects which are mentioned beforehand, considering that I have to juggle my duties with the university paper and my regional org while wait for the impending weekly meetings with another writing group as I sip some Frappuccino with a close buddy. Heavy? I am not really sure. Just want to say good luck to my hands and to my almost-drying brain.

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Jun 04 2008

catharsis for two things



When cutting a line to form a verse thinking the mundane is subjugated in poetry, when falling for the temptations of serpentine sentences thinking it’s alright in fiction, or when believing the facts can be twisted to add eccentricity thinking it’s forgivable in nonfiction, it's time for one to change his/her mindset as early as possible. Seriously.

I have just been in exile. In literary exile, to be exact, for I and my literary pieces have been subject to analysis, highlighting flaws and stupid mixed metaphors devilishly playing within my woven words. Wait, not in exile in the sense that I am banished from this field but in exile for I have been detached from my ideals that I have considered right and sufficient.

Just months ago when personal-internal crisis jarred my entirety in chaos, creating lines of poetry and paragraphs of fiction out of the ethereal gloominess that shrouded me, I shifted my focus with much effort to the only friend I had at home: the PC. The two of us had been nice to each other; he provided me stuff that loaded my attention bag to its fullest while I bear his glaring monitor. It was through his constant cyber-charity that I found doorways out of the prolonged remorse. These were the writing workshops’ call for submission of entries.

Page upon page in the internet, I immediately chose three prospects: The IYAS in Bacolod, and the national workshops in Dumaguete and Iligan. Since I had been writing “something” during my state of melancholia, I’d better fry my works in the pan of the authorities. The unlucky thing was that Bacolod had already closed its doors so I was left with two options. Without any hesitation, I applied both. I even said to myself, “What if I got into both workshops? My, heavy decision! I’ve got to choose which one I should participate. Feelerette!”

And then the messages came. I received the Dumaguete message first, informing me that I passed. What was more ironic was that I was at Dumsville when I got the tip (happy). Then the day finally arrived that I had to leave the province (happier—at that moment). Back in my hometown, my mother said someone called from Iligan (happiest). I instantly became a writing fellow in the 47th Dumaguete and the 15th Iligan National Writers Workshops, for fiction and poetry respectively. The rest was history.

If statements such as “What use is this piece to me?” and “I need to be rewarded and I don’t get anything from this!” make you fidgety, then these workshops are not your avenue yet. I readied myself for hard-hitting comments since most of my pieces were written for therapeutic purposes, not mainly literary. As much as the nearly-autobiographical concepts sliced through me in the process of writing my fiction and poems with such self-inflicted pain, the realization of mistakes and required developments proposed by the workshop panelists were definitely sharp and piercing.

Now after a month of bashing works into pulp they could make use as jam for morning sandwiches, I basically have to thank the aches of my inner being that I have been able to explore the outer landscapes of existence. This whole thing screams emo but this is the tad fact: those two writing workshops have been the much-needed catharsis to both my sensitivity on certain matters and, of course, my unfurnished love for the letters. To Rowena Tiempo-Torrevillas, Myrna Peña-Reyes, Cesar Ruiz Aquino, Butch Macansantos, Dave Genotiva, Butch Dalisay, Danny Reyes, Susan Lara, Ernesto Superal Yee, Lito Zulueta, Leoncio Deriada, Christine Godinez-Ortega, Rosario Cruz Lucero, Antonio Enriquez, Victor Sugbo, German Gervacio, Steven Fernandez, and Ralph Semino Galan, thank you very much for the insights.

And to my fellow fellows, both from the Katsubong Troupe of Dumaguete and the Hipon Gang of Iligan, your raucous but pleasurable company never fail to spark up even the most dormant energy and brain cells in me. With you, I’ve learned a lot of things other than those which reverberated in the workshop sessions. I love you, bullfrogish feelerettes!

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Jun 01 2008

being a hipon


Grammar check, language competence, poetic deficiency, and many more, these various features for criticism just never fail to pull us down from what literary pedestal we are standing on. Feelerette! In the 15th Iligan National Writers Workshop that ended last May 31, we were mere fellows and the likes of Leoncio Deriada, Rosario Cruz Lucero, Christine Godinez-Ortega, Tony Enriquez, Man Gervacio, Victor Sugbo and Ralph Galan were the masters.

Well, they did send us monsters. The almost-daily mentioning of “this is an attempt…”, “the problem of this piece…”, and “this will work if…” still ring in my mind. Obviously that’s the purpose of a writing workshop; to be assailed with comments and lessons that stem from one’s very own glory piece.

In my case, who finally got into a serious workshop to have my English poems critiqued by established Filipino poets, I considered myself lucky (except for the colds and cough that I got for being enclosed inside the Elena Towers Hotel with artic air-conditioners). The remarks I received were Level 7.5 Bad (in a range from 1 to 10) and this rating proved that what I thought was enough was never adequate. Remain humble and continue writing. We, fellows, all learned this: Pride in the field of writing never works so what better way of receiving hurting analysis and study is to become a hipon. Forgive the Kafkaesque inside joke here but this was the most effective technique to execute when one had to agree with the Panelists’ observations other than nodding while smiling at the same time with tears welling up in our eyes (this is an exaggeration).

The origin of this “becoming a hipon” still stemmed from one of my many adventures in the Dumaguete Workshop so explaining the whys and the hows here is tasking. Let’s just state that a hipon is basically a shrimp and that a shrimp has scales, scales which strengthened our outer look that subsequently gave us an almost emotionless and expressionless face when we, fellows, decided of metaphorically transforming into one during the sessions. Now, I’m back in Tagbilaran and still coughing.

(Top row L-R: Erick Dasig Aguilar, Xer Jason D. Ocampo, Ma. Elena L. Paulma, Marion B. Guerrero, Efmer E. Agustin, Krisza Joy P. Kintanar, John Lorenz S. Poquiz, Fred Jordan Mikhail T. Carnice. Bottom Row L-R: Sarah Jane D. Sebastian, Leonilo D. Lopido, Samantha G. Echavez, John Philip A. Baltazar, Marius Angelo G. Monsanto, Luciano L. Abia IV, Niño Manaog, Evangeline B. Gubat)

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May 23 2008

breaking

I think all of us writing fellows in the Dumaguete workshop have reached the inevitable of our literary undertakings—whether we like it or not. All of us are going to our separate ways. Mushy? Yes. Even with our three-week stay in the province just to embrace the critiques of esteemed writers from across the nation, I am glad no one has reached the physical level of a breakdown. Well, there’s one but the subtle emotional rage is not brought about by the flawed technicalities of the fellow’s work but, rather, on the reality of the story in itself.

Tonight, at Labas (just along Hayahay), we would celebrate this glorious gathering of shaping and reshaping literary practices before the inescapable breaking that will happen the following day. Also, we would be unveiling something tonight that would create an interesting dot in the history-line of this workshop. This is our anthology entitled Sea[sic]: Prose and Poetry by the Fellows of the 47th Dumaguete National Writers Workshop. Painstakingly made in one week, which was spearheaded by Dustin Celestino and Margie de Leon, the output is something we could not believe would come in actuality. We are all proud of our baby. What’s this for? Let’s just say that this project is our little token to all panelists who have endured our ignorance, our clean-slatedness as youngsters in the world of literature.

Sigh. To my fellow feelerettes who discovered the ethereal beauty of katusbong, who pranced Hibbard Avenue at 3 o’clock in the morning to the music of Total Eclipse of the Heart, who thought that the night-time security officers were Yellow Cab Pizza deliverers, and who realized that the humid charm of Dumaguete was just too hard to ignore, thanks and see you all soon. I just sincerely hope that our love for the letters will bring us back together again.

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May 18 2008

one more week

The coals have been prepared and stoked. One more week and our literary muses will never be the same again. Good or bad, various critiques not only shape the words on our papers but also guide the pen that we hold on to continue writing if the itch persists.

(Top L-R) Liza Bacay, Lambert Varias Jr., Elena Paulma, Lawrence Bernabe, Leslie dela Cruz (Middle L-R) Bron Teves, Arlene Yandug, Rodrigo dela Peña, Marguerite de Leon, Fred Jordan Mikhail Carnice (Bottom L-R) Celeste Fusilero, Joshua So, Dustin Celestino, Carmela Tolentino)

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May 13 2008

under our sleeves

Sudden plans just sprout out in our minds (or maybe from our ears) like bulbous mushrooms poisonous enough to kill a wary vegetarian, such as this one thing that would, probably, be the first to happen in the history of the Dumaguete workshop. Though, we can probably blame this to the fickle weather that constantly racks up our sensibilities which subsequently makes us ponder on certain agendas, the idea is undeniably great. It would be a feat if the process goes well. I can’t spill anything yet at the moment but Dustin Celestino, the culprit behind all of the tension that's cowering us all this week, is definitely persistent in this undertaking which would be revealed maybe in a little while.

Okay, got to do some writing now. Deadline: tomorrow at eight o’clock.
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May 03 2008

15th iligan national writers workshop fellows

The results are in. I guess I have to immediately jump off to Iligan after the Dumaguete Workshop. Two word tortures in one month? Well, here’s to the watering of my ambitious take on the field of literary arts.

The National Commission for Culture and Arts (NCCA), the Mindanao Creative Writers Group, Inc. in cooperation with the MSU-Iligan Institute of Technology’s Office of the Vice Chancellor for Research and Extension (MSU-IIT-OVCRE) announce the 15 writing fellows to the 15th Iligan National Writers Workshop on May 26-31, 2008 in Iligan City.


LUZON
Samantha G. Echavez, UP Diliman (Fiction in English)
Sarah Jane D. Sebastian, UP Diliman (Fiction in Filipino)
Erick Dasig Aguilar, UP Diliman (Poetry in Filipino)
Evangeline B. Gubat, Ateneo de Manila University (Poetry in English)
John Lorenz S. Poquiz, University of Santo Tomas (Poetry in English)


VISAYAS
Fred Jordan Mikhail T. Carnice, Silliman University (Poetry in English)
Nino Manaog, Ateneo de Naga University (Poetry in English)
Leonilo D. Lopido, Leyte Institute of Technology (Poetry in Waray)
Luciano L. Abia IV, UP College Tacloban (Poetry in Waray)
Efmer E. Agustin, UP Visayas/Abuyog (Fiction in Cebuano)


MINDANAO
Krisza Joy P. Kintanar, UP Mindanao (Fiction in English)
Marius Angelo G. Monsanto, UP Mindanao (Fiction in English)
Ma. Elena L. Paulma, UP Diliman, (Poetry in English)
John Philip A. Baltazar, Xavier University (Poetry in English)
Xer Jason D. Ocampo, UP Mindanao (Poetry in English)


Panelists this year are Ma. Rosario Cruz Lucero, Leoncio P. Deriada, German V. Gervacio, Victor N. Sugbo, Merlie M. Alunan, Jaime An Lim, Steven Patrick C. Fernandez, keynote speaker, Antonio Reyes Enriquez and Christine Godinez-Ortega, the 15th INWW Director.

Highlights of this year’s workshop include the launching of the 14th INWW Proceedings titled, Fire and Faith in Writing edited by Godinez-Ortega and published by the MSU-IIT OVCRE; a lecture by INWW alumnus, Ralph Semino Galan; the Jimmy Y. Balacuit Literary Awards; and, the launching of the Manuel Buenafe Writing Fellowship and the Ricardo Jorge S. Caluen Writing Bursary.

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May 02 2008

state of shock

Unexpected inclusions in our day-to-day familiarity of living have only two things to offer: things worthy and things worthless. But when I arrived home minutes ago, I received some news that definitely fit under the first suggestion; I got a letter of confirmation to become one of the fifteen fellows in the 15th Iligan National Writers Workshop (INWW). I became super-happy because in one summer break there’s a possibility that I’ll be joining in two workshops; the Dumaguete (of which I’m already officially involved as a fiction fellow) and the Iligan (as a poetry fellow, of which most of my works are misery-induced). Suddenly, something came in: I’ve got to be in Tibanga, Iligan City by May 25 but the other workshop would probably end on that exact date, too. My goodness! Oh my, what should I do? But there’s a glimmer of hope though; Kuya Bron, who’s a fellow for poetry in the Dumaguete workshop, told me that the SU English Department planned of closing the event by May 22. Whooo! After all of these coming into my life I say that things, along the run of the slow ache-obliterating time, are getting better indeed. It’s ironic that my being emo just got me into two national writing workshops. Hail to side-swept hair? Never. I had enough.
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Apr 30 2008

the fascination of self in online publishing

Published by f. jordan under , Internet, blogfrog, literature

In the press, there are the editors. In the classroom, there’s the professor. And supposedly, in the house, there are the parents. Writing seems to be so guarded and sacred that when internet age comes, armed with blogs (and its other relatives), all aspiring writers applaud. Because in this now-favored outlet, no one directs, no one hinders. Meaning, in cyberspace, there are no editors, no professors, no parents. As blogs prevail, with popularity that never seems to fade, a lot of the discreetly self-proclaimed deep thinkers of the community rise and contradict due to the advent of narcissistic writing.

There is no need to further evaluate and elaborate what this is; blood and tears have been shed enough to understand its intricate nature as to why it has even surfaced from the face of the planet—or more appropriately, extracted from the minds of human beings. Well, I think that’s what personal blogs are for; to provide an alternative for a journal.

There’s too much “pa-concern kuno” in this world (and those who lead this are the “pa-scholar” in the general public), even though the truth of the matter is that each and every one of us has the desire to show what is not usually shown, heard, or felt—or anything that the majority thinks is embarrassing. And this is the reason why quite a number of people (such as I, in some instances) tends to get out of the rut from everyday political, spiritual, and even metaphysical brouhaha. Most often, it is also due to the dreariness of current events that some succumbs to express write-ups in a dark depressing tone, or perhaps emotional which is then condensed into “emo,” as specially classified by the hypocrites. In my opinion, at least there are people who are emotional, who really feel, unlike those who have an emotional capacity of a paper clip. Thus the discussion about the smallest of things, may it be the dirt on a sleeve or a new music video on TV, can provide the buffer needed to continue living as bearable as it can be.

Those who try to suppress this desire in order to live up a yearned status (which makes up a social climber), to create a glossy impression to other people, still fail because in whatever way they sugar-coat their statements with these purportedly academic and mind-stimulating thoughts, they are who they are just trying to be someone else.

These new breed of societal A-list wanabees are also basically jologs; just overly-decorated with jaded eyeglasses or simply armed with a powermouth which rivals that of a National Social Butterfly, and are simply clouded in an air of cerebral superiority that they’d just rant off direct quotations from the book of Immanuel Kant or Karl Marx when they can no longer discuss what’s going on about someone’s personal opinion concerning Boy Abunda’s latest get-up.

If people define what is being sensible by dipping into a conversation about the mysterious smile of McDonalds, the evolution of whatnot in all fields known by mankind, or the economic instability of our nation and take this as their daily lunch chat, well they are better off at Fort Santiago’s dungeons with Beethoven’s deathly sonatas playing endlessly in the cold air in order for their ears to bleed and go deaf so as not to hear any nonsensical stories from nonsensical people or—in this case which calls for the defense of narcissistic writings—go blind so as not to witness air-headed writings from air-headed people (wait, how can music do that… never mind). Clutter in cyberspace? Well, those who are being opposed thinks of the same thing, too, by the way (now, at the least, there’s a similarity between the narcissistic and the theorist). Besides, everything in the web is clutter. What is only important in it is Google AdSense. Also, though their sixth degree synonym of a simple adjective—shockingly transforming “particular” to “circumstantial”—really impresses me for this show of knowledge that exceeds a chimpanzee’s, I remain my composure and set of standards.

If these writings are truly revolting and pathetic, what more is that egotistical response of describing such kind of personal writing in the first place? Don’t people have the right to intricately talk about a drinking session like an ode, or beautifully weave words about the afternoon rain like a poem, or magnificently transform the idea of hatred into a compact vignette? Well, those who do, go on! Continue what you want to say. Preach about the latest ear piercing you’ve got or what brand of undies you are currently wearing. I have been doing this in my very own public blog (no, not those two examples) and if someone comments that I am like a high school drop-out who have read nothing that goes beyond the thickness of an Archie Double Digest magazine, I will slap at their faces the tome of The Great Critics or Science Explained. Point made. The major rule here is to know the limitations. And I know mine.

Primarily, all of us have our respective spaces in the web and so those who cannot help but go bonkers about a blog post that is tagged selfish in their limited mindset, they should travel a thousand years back and live in caves. As a matter of fact, the title of this post should not mention “fascination” but, rather, an “importance.” The alleged ludicrous writing grants online balance: light and heavy, funny and serious, important and the not-so-important-but-relatively-worth-knowing.

We have our own words to say. In the web, there is no intellectual copyright but only intellectual arrogance. Even if I have said this I still cannot change anything, but the bottom line is I have explained. Actually, there is no need to stoop low. Sheesh, I couldn’t believe I am saying these things. If there should have been enough time today, I could have go on about my new hairstyle. Sayang.
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Apr 17 2008

47th dumaguete national writers workshop fellows

Just by simply sending in some manuscripts I consider obsolete in my little world of writing where I am a practicing fiction writer, I am scared and weak-kneed. What more, when I received a messaged last Monday (April 14, 2008) that I got into a national workshop, I was suddenly thrown into a whole new atmosphere. I was, really, in a shock thinking this was just a prank. But it wasn’t. And minutes ago, I've read a message in my email from the Workshop committee... My, I know some of the fellows (not only those from Silliman) and they are published and professionals in their own right. Shiver, shiver.

National Artist for Literature and National Writers Workshop Director Emeritus Edith L. Tiempo and Silliman University are pleased to announce that the following young artists have been accepted as fellows for the 47th Dumaguete National Writers Workshop scheduled on May 5-23, 2008.


POETRY FELLOWS

Lawrence Anthony Rivera Bernabe (UP Visayas)
Noelle Leslie G. dela Cruz (Philosophy Assoc. Professor, De La Salle University)
Ma. Celeste T. Fusilero (Ateneo de Davao)
Rodrigo Dela Peña (London PR Consultancy Creative Assoc., Dumaguete)
Arelene Jaguit Yandug (English Asst. Professor, Xavier)
Bron Joseph C. Teves (Silliman)


FICTION FELLOWS

Marguerite Alcarazen de Leon (Ateneo de Manila)
Dustin Edward Celestino (UP Dilliman)
Joshua L. Lim So (De La Salle)
Liza Baccay (Speech Pathologist; contributor Cebu Daily News)
Fred Jordan Mikhail T. Carnice (Silliman)


CREATIVE NON-FICTION FELLOWS

Ma. Elena L. Paulma (Xavier)
Anna Carmela P. Tolentino (De La Salle)
Lamberto M. Varias, Jr. (UP Dilliman)


Sponsored by the National Commission for Culture and the Arts (NCCA) and coordinated by the Department of English and Literature, the Workshop will be held at Silliman University in Dumaguete City.

Among the panelists expected to assist Dr. Tiempo are Dumaguete-based writers Ernesto Superal Yee, Bobby Villasis, Myrna Peña Reyes, and Cesar Ruiz Aquino, as well as guest panelists Dr. Rowena Torrevillas from the University of Iowa, Butch Dalisay, Butch Macansantos, Dave Genotiva, Susan Lara, Danny Reyes, Anthony Tan, and Lito Zulueta.

Other sponsors include the following: Hon. Emilio C. Macias II, Governor, Province of Negros Oriental; Mr. Roy Cang, Bethel Guest House; Ms. Susan Cu, Café Antonio; Atty. Whelma Yap, Bacongham Resort; and Ms. Kitty Taniguchi, Maryah Gallery.
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Apr 15 2008

submit your works for the 4th philippine speculative fiction anthology

Speculative fiction is the literature of wonder that spans the genres of fantasy, science fiction, horror and magic realism or falls into the cracks in-between.

1. Only works of speculative fiction will be considered for publication. As works of the imagination, the theme is open and free.

2. Stories must cater to an adult sensibility. However, if you have a Young Adult story that is particularly well-written, send it in.

3. Stories must be written in English.

4. Stories must be authored by Filipinos or those of Philippine ancestry.

5. Preference will be given to original unpublished stories, but previously published stories will also be considered. In the case of previously published material, kindly include the title of the publishing entity and the publication date. Kindly state also in your cover letter that you have the permission, if necessary, from the original publishing entity to republish your work.

6. First time authors are welcome to submit. In the first three volumes, there was a good mix of established and new authors. Good stories trump literary credentials anytime.

7. No multiple submissions. Each author may submit only one story for consideration.

8. Each story’s word count must be no fewer than 1,500 words and no more than 7,500 words.

9. All submissions must be in Rich Text Format (.rtf – save the document as .rft on your word processor) and attached to an email to this address: dean@kestrelddm.com. Submissions received in any other format will be deleted, unread.

10. The subject of your email must read: PSF4 Submission: (title) (word count); where (title) is replaced by the title of your short story, without the parentheses, and (word count) is the word count of your story, without the parentheses. For example - PSF4 Submission: Bull Meets Frog 3500.

11. All submissions must be accompanied by a cover letter that includes your name, brief bio, contact information, previous publications (if any). Introduce yourself.

12. Deadline for submissions is September 15, 2008. After that date, final choices will be made and letters of acceptance or regret sent out via email.

13. Target publishing date is December 2008/January 2009.

14. Compensation for selected stories will be 2 contributor’s copies of the published anthology as well as a share in aggregrate royalties.

from Dean Alfar's blog.
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Apr 04 2008

dark blue southern seas 08


Here are the final contents of this literary folio:

Bitter Harvest Alfred Casipong
Mr. Sunshine Carlos Garcia
Camus Dreaming Jan Paulo Bastareche
Sweet Baby Justin Megan Yu
The First Dream Robert Jed Malayang
Until Today Marianne Tapales
Wanderers Michelle Eve de Guzman
Like A Broken Record Rodrigo Bolivar II
Damien’s Succulent Fiesta Breakfast Anthony Gerard Odtohan
Solitude John Boaz Lee
Group Study Ian Rosales Casocot
The Return Timothy Montes
The Other End F. Jordan Carnice
The Spark Sonia SyGaco
Necrolatry Jan Paulo Bastareche
Lightless Zakiyah Sidri
Instant Messages Lyde Gerard Villanueva
Picasso Bron Joseph Teves
Pulutan Celeste June Rivera
Bulsa Celeste June Rivera
Life Radio Bron Joseph Teves
Reverse Mask Primy Joy Cane

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Apr 03 2008

palanca, anyone?

Published by f. jordan under , advertise, literature, palanca


Please, would someone slap me directly at the face? Because right at this very moment the competition is ringing in my mind even though I am fully aware that my aptitude in writing is juvenile. Anyways, for those who want to participate, click here for the papers needed in participating the 2008 Don Carlos Palanca Memorial Awards for Literature. And better work on those writings, the deadline is on April 30, 2008.
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Apr 02 2008

dbss coming soon

The Dark Blue Southern Seas (DBSS) Literary Folio will be available soon. This 2008 issue will no longer be in a magazine form but in a 100-page book; thanks to Mr. Cleonico Fontello for approving our proposal. Though the university could only pull off 1,000 copies for circulation (which is a far cry from some university that have produced 9,000 copies!), the good thing here is that finally the Weekly Sillimanian has been able to produce an actual literary folio—unlike Sands and Corals which has been stagnating for the past three years.

Inside the lit-folio are the works of:
Timothy Montes
Fred Jordan Mikhail T. Carnice
Jan Paulo Bastareche
Sonia SyGaco
Carlos Garcia
Alfred Casipong
Celeste June Rivera
Rodrigo Bolivar II
Primy Joy Cane
Michelle Eve De Guzman
Anthony Gerard Odtohan
John Boaz Lee
Robert Jed Malayang
Zaki Sidri
Marianne Catherine Tapales
Bron Teves
Lyde Gerard Villanueva
Junstine Megan Yu
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Apr 01 2008

because from now on

Published by f. jordan under , Life, Quotes, literature

"Ah, when to the heart of man was it ever less than a treason
to go with the drift of things to yield with a grace
to reason and bow and accept at the end of a love or a season."
Robert Frost

"Some people swallow the universe like a pill;
they travel on through the world,
like smiling images pushed from behind."
Robert Louis Stevenson

"Differences of habit and language are nothing at all
if our aims are identical and our hearts are open."
Joanne Kathleen Rowling
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Mar 07 2008

fresh

Published by f. jordan under , advertise, literature


The online scene's portal to Philippine literature has just got a fresh new look.
Click here.

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Mar 06 2008

2008 dbss literary competition winners



Finally, the results are in. And good news: I won first place in the Poetry category! Yipee!

Sponsored by the Weekly Sillimanian and Kadugong Bol-anon, the winning works will be included in our literary folio, Dark Blue Southern Seas (DBSS), to be published by next school year. I am keeping my fingers crossed this time. Well, most of the staffers of this folio are graduating so it would be me alone who’s got to face the intrigues and other concerns that would be sprouting from somewhere next year.

Short Fiction
1st place - Alfred Casipong (MA in Creative Writing) “Inday”
2nd place - Carlos Garcia (BS Computer Science – I) “The Mr. Sunshine”
3rd place - Jan Paulo Bastareche (Mass Communication – III) “Camus Dreaming: An Existentialist Story”

Poetry
1st place - Fred Jordan Mikhail T. Carnice (AB Creative Writing – III) “The Other End”
2nd place - Sonia SyGaco (MA in Creative Writing) “The Spark”
3rd place - Jan Paulo Bastareche (Mass Communication – III) “Necrolatry”

Essay
1st place - Celeste June Rivera (Mass Communication – III) “Pulutan”
2nd place - Celeste June Rivera (Mass Communication – III) “Bulsa”
3rd place - none


JUDGES: Mr. Ian Rosales Casocot, Ms. Lakambini Sitoy, Mr. Cesar Ruiz Aquino, Atty. Ernesto Superal Yee, and Mr. Bobby Flores Villasis

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Jan 19 2008

Create your FREE online forms with Wufoo!

Yesterday, I found out that the contact form has not been working. Thank God, I had thought of testing it myself. I was using the PXS Mail WordPress plugin then tried sending a test e-mail and found out it was not sent to my e-mail. I thought that this could a plugin compatibility issue so I tried another one (Dagon Design Form Mailer) with the same results. There maybe a server restriction that does not allow me to access the PHP mailform function as Dagon Design explained. I moved to a new host (WebhostingBuzz.com) last November and I noticed that I have not been receiving any message from my visitors. I know it can be easily resolved by contacting my host, however, it’s also good to try other alternatives. Good thing, I came across Wufoo, the free HTML form builder.

Wufoo, the Amazing FREE HTML Form Builder

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Oct 25 2007

We Won

Published by jordan under achievement, cegp, literature, tws


Those two little words may seem so flamboyant for its size but those two words meant so much for us. The Weekly Sillimanian’s literary supplement (after numerous years of stagnation), Dark Blue Southern Seas (DBSS), won 1st runner up in the recently concluded 1st LUBAS Awards held at Candahug Palo, Leyte last October 24, 2007, as part of this year’s College Editors Guild of the Philippines - 4th Visayas Formation.

Take note: No other student publication won in the Literary Folio Category—no champion, no 2nd runner up. Though we landed on the second place, the fact remained that DBSS was the only work that passed the judges’ standards.

As part of the editorial staff for this magazine who tediously made it to the point of near-surrender, alongside unpleasant comments from various sectors of the university when the final output was circulated to all, the unexpected accomplishment was enough to give those blabbermouths the slap-on-the-face execution.

Maybe the hyped-up Kaffeklastch, the demure Mabalahibong Huwebes (ehem), or the factual Mapping the Literary Culture of Silliman hit this year’s theme “Arming campus journalists with competence to advocate social awareness and press freedom.”

Competence, eh? This is all for you dimwits: Blag! Hurrah for our first try!

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Oct 20 2007

How to Cheat the Best Way

Published by jordan under literature, silliness

Stealthily looking a seatmate’s exam paper, relaying sophisticated hand signals, tucking tiny papers in every available space of a folded handkerchief, or simply exchanging answer sheets when the teacher’s eyes wander a moment or two—these are some of the many modi operandi that we call cheating. It is prevalent in all campuses around the world—including Silliman University. It is alarming to know, cheating is now claimed as part of a student’s life. For a Christian institution, is this really the way to find the truth, and live life? Think again.

Cheating, as defined in the Webster’s New Encyclopedic Dictionary, is “to get something from another by deception or dishonesty, which suggests using trickery that escapes observation.” And yes, it is indeed. But for college students a detailed and systematic definition of the word is not important; for as long as they have practiced and finally mastered the craft, the act of cheating is as easy as tying one’s shoelace. “Forget values, forget ethics, and pass this damn exam” might be a professional cheater’s code of conduct.

So to survive the pressure that goes along College life, amid disconcerting Professors who seem to enjoy giving mind-numbing exams (or psychological games), cheating slowly has been transformed (from a mere unintelligent way to battle “unprepared-ness”) into an all-around survival kit that could render obsolete the now-waning art called “study.” For in this generation, study has become undesirable.

A majority of the student populace would not consider cheating taboo these days. “It is normal,” one proudly says, or, as another friend relates, “Cheating really looks bad considering that it is like stealing, but if you’re in a tight situation, the act will be done without any hesitations. [sic]”

We can say that cheating is a quest for perfection; a quest to accomplish the formidable task, to achieve the prized goal. But it is not easy. After all, dilemmas go with everything that is thought to be trouble-free. Since a lot of us already know what cheating is and why it is done, therefore it’s uncommon to ask: “How could we cheat—the best way?” Through a number of question and answer sessions with familiar campus figures (ranging from the freshmen up to graduate students), here are the top three unique and bizarre ways of cheating that were explicitly shared. But in order to comprehend the nature of these techniques, it’s rational that we ought to learn what is actually needed—the devices for the “perfect” crime.

Since names of techniques differ from one person to another, we have laid out the materials first (as headers) which may also serve the method’s codename. Let us begin the lesson.

1.) Materials Needed: Pencil and Eraser
- College students these days seldom use basic elementary writing tools such as the pencil. But in this technique, with an ultra-sharp pencil alongside a good-sized rubber eraser (approximately 2” x 1” x 0.5” in dimensions), you, as the conspirator, could fly to greater heights and catch those elusive 4.0s [four-point-zeroes]. The process is simple: First, with your super sharp pencil, write in fine, minute letters your question on the rubber eraser and pass it on to your accomplice beside you, or much better, to a person who is brilliant and “good” enough sharing his or her golden answers. Second, just wait for his or her answer to be written on the same eraser before retrieving it back. It’s that easy!

Question: Wouldn’t the teacher ever notice that you keep on passing along that tiny piece of rubber?

2) Materials Needed: Paper and Garter String
- This method could be best used for people who usually wear skirts (short skirts are preferable). Definitely, this is for women. The procedure should start right at home; write all answers that you need for enlightenment in a small sheet of paper and tie it with a short stretchable string (or garter), then insert it under the skirt. One foreign friend (nationality hidden) shared this as effective. She said that this is popular in their hometown’s high schools. Since they are required to wear near-skimpy skirts as part and parcel of their uniforms, why not use this uncomfortable sight as something useful?

Question: Wouldn’t it look promiscuous that a lady frequently pulls out something from under her skirt?

3) Materials Needed: The Answer Sheets
- If the situation gets tough and executing the first two methods is too lame, why not act with the nastiest wits present in mind? This last method is the funniest but, neve